Work Text:
Gift: noun. “A thing given willingly to someone without payment; a present.“
Dream remembered being called “a gift” back in Dreamtale. He remembered the utter joy on the Villagers’ faces as they cheered for him. He remembered the positivity erupting from them as Dream felt himself growing warmer and warmer with positivity.
The longer Dream lived in Dreamtale, the sooner he realized what “gift” meant. Gift meant that he was not his own- he was an object for the Villagers to use. “Gift” meant that he was a possession- something for the Villagers to play with. “Gift” meant that he felt alone- and only useful if he was serving his purpose.
Dream did not like the word “gift.” But it made the Villagers happy. So he allowed them to keep using the word as they pleased. He continued letting them treat him like an object. He continued letting them do whatever they wanted with him, as long as they were happy.
As long as they were happy, what else mattered?
It had been long since Dreamtale got destroyed and Dream was encompassed in stone, however the Guardian still believed what he had been taught so long ago. As long as people were happy, what else mattered? Nothing, Dream told himself as he answered his own question.
The Guardian struggled to stand up as he waved to the people of the Omega Timeline. Dream had just returned from a fight with Nightmare (in a usually positive AU, no less.) Dream had come out victorious, but it did not mean that he was without wear.
Many voices called out towards Dream, and one continuous phrase he heard rang in his mind.
Thank you! You’re a gift, Dream! Or common phrases of that ilk.
Gift. Object. Possession.
Dream kept his head high and his smile on his face as he reminded himself of all the joy being a “gift” brought the denizens of the Omega Timeline.
The positivity from the crowd may have helped Dream with a few of his wounds, but most were deep as he continued to wobble.
A strong set of hands held onto Dream’s own as they boosted him up, and the Guardian locked eyes with Cross. The ex-Royal Guard gave a small smile as he helped Dream up.
”Are you hurt?” The soldier asked, staring into his golden eyes.
Dream looked considerate, before dipping his head before he could get lost in Cross’s snow white eyes. “No… I’m fine. But thank you, Cross.”
Cross couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that, right?” He smiled, and continued after Dream blushed and continued to not look Cross’s way. “You have some deep cuts along your forearm,” Cross mumbled, “we need to get those patched up.”
Dream gave a curt nod as he allowed himself to hold onto Cross’s hands (remember Dream, you are their gift. Object. Possession.) towards a hospital. Dream’s aura got tainted as he recognized the fear coming off of Cross.
The two made it to a nearby hospital, Dream requesting that Cross stay with him as he was kept in a small room. Cross sat in a chair by the window, letting in the pale white of the Omega Timeline’s “sky.” Dream was told the hospital would only be temporary, which he was thankful for. He had to get back out there as to not disappoint the Villagers people of the Omega Timeline in case something happened in which they needed the Guardian.
Dream gave an exasperated sigh as he laid down on the bed, which Cross followed up with a smile. “You okay?” The soldier asked. Dream gave a shrug.
The Guardian could feel the suspicion tingling from Cross. However, he was not worried. Although Cross was usually someone who asked what was wrong, he was never one to dive any deeper.
Today must be an off day.
”You never shrug like that.” Cross huffed, crossing his arms as Dream looked at him confusedly. Cross took this time to think, and Dream soon realized Cross was just that worried about him. He attempted to ignore his own SOUL beating faster at that realization.
”In fact, you’ve just seemed… off these past couple days.” Cross blurted, fiddling with the jacket wrapped around his waist. “Is something up?” He asked, and Dream tried to not seem surprised.
”I’m… fine.” Dream lied, and he was surprised by how unconvincing it sounded. Ashamed by his poor attempt of a lie, he turned away, missing Cross’s worried expression.
”Dream…” Cross murmured, sighing. “You can’t just ignore your own emotions like this.” He grumbled. It’s not healthy… trust me.” The ex-Royal Guard stared up at Dream sheepishly, and the Guardian looked at him. He could sense the absolute care radiating from Cross. Dream stayed silent for a few moments, before he finally spoke.
”I’ve been called a “gift” ever since Dreamtale.” Dream started, not looking at Cross as he spoke. He fiddled his fingers as he continued, “as it turns out, “gift” means object. It means possession. It means thing.” The Guardian spoke with a sorrow one would not expect from a being who thrives off of positivity.
”I’ve felt like a possession my whole life. Even after Dreamtale. I’m the Guardian of Positivity. I’m supposed to always be there, I’m never supposed to be tired, I’m supposed to be everything and more but I just can’t.” His voice broke, and did not even realize tears were flowing until he had to take a gasping breath. Cross was at his side in an instant.
”Dream…” his voice was the opposite of what one would expect from a soldier, soft and gentle and reassuring. Dream had to force himself not to look as he was drawn into a hug. Cross rubbed the Guardian’s back in order to calm him down as he spoke.
”You’re still a person, Dream. Even if you’re a Guardian you’re still a person. You’re allowed to say “no” if you can’t do something.” Cross reminded, and Dream could only sob in response. “I don’t want anyone ever forcing you to do anything, Dream. You’re still a person.” You’re still my favorite person. Cross whispered. He must’ve thought Dream couldn’t hear it, but he could. Dream did not comment (mainly because he couldn’t.)
The Guardian wiped the tears from his eyes as he muffled a “sorry…” which Cross did not accept as he told Dream he had nothing to worry about.
The two sat in a comforting hug, Cross holding Dream, as the two thought about each other in silence.
Cross was ready to remind Dream at any instant that, yes, he could in fact say “no” to someone.
And Dream, Dream was so happy that finally, finally, he was not a gift. He was not an object. He was not a possession.
In the eyes of the one he loved the most, Dream was a person.
And that was all he could hope for as he hugged Cross tighter.